The Hero's Saga: A Hoenn tale
by PoetsareDumb
Summary: Strength, Courage, Wisdom, Humility, Passion, Spirit. All traits I don't believe I have. Then again, I'm not the hero, I have to stop the hero before he kills my friend.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

The harsh sun and the millions upon millions of tiny bits of sand that whipped at hurricane speeds most of the year made the Great Desert of Hoenn one of the most dangerous places on earth. The temperatures skyrocketed to thirty degrees over one hundred on average, and the vicious pokemon that had adapted to the harsh environment were tough as nails and prone to violence. The Great Hoenn Desert was one thousand five hundred Wailords around. Due to its placement between two large mountain ranges the desert was almost always one giant sandstorm.

All these factors run through my head as don my desert goggles and shimmy my way down by rope into it's most treacherous area. The Dol Ruins are one of the most dangerous areas in Hoenn, nearly a mile underground they are notoriously difficult to reach unaided, not only that they are swarming with the dual rock-psychic type Pokemon of the Baydol tree. The standard Baydol is incredibly passive, but also ridiculously territorial, and their evolution loses any passiveness in exchange for the ability to launch Hyper Beams.

'Why am I down here again?' I ask myself as I land quietly... sort of on the cave floor. 'Oh that's right, some rich dude is too lazy to get a Baydol himself, so decides to pay an unlicensed fifteen year old to go catch one.' I don't dare grumble out loud. Baydol don't have great eyesight, on account of them being floating rocks. they do though have great hearing.

You might be asking yourself, is this kid crazy? Or maybe just dumb? Or maybe you're too angry that I'm making you watch these memories from the start, to really care. Well suck it up, if you want these secrets you're getting the WHOLE story.

So there I was crouched under some rocks as I made my way further into the ruins. Most Baydol are solitary creatures, they only congregate in these ruins during "breeding". I work at a Pokemon Daycare and couldn't tell you what they do. Anyway, these guys will usually stake out certain areas of the desert and stay there for decades. My goal is to target a weaker one on the outskirts of the camps, capture it without alerting the others, and then make my escape.

My mentor Watson, used to say plans only work till first contact. Looking back at it now that makes a whole bunch of sense. According to plan I snuck around the ruins avoiding the wandering Baydol and making sure to stay as far away from the floating death laser Claydols. Eventually I found a loners ways away from the main ruins. It was a little on the smaller side compared to the others that populated the ruins, but that usually meant it was younger.

As an unlicensed Pokemon hunter there were many tricks to the trade. Without a Pokemon direct confrontation was impossible, as was maintaining any status effects directly, but creativity brought me my solution to these problems.

You see, aside from Cacnea, which weren't really hot commodities on the market. Most of the Pokemon of the desert are rock or ground types. Sandshrew, Sandslash, Trapinch, and Baydol all fell into a category of types that just so happened to have a very accessible weakness. Water. High doses of water usually frightened them, high impact high doses with a little sleeping powder mixed in that I procured from a very friendly Oddish made for the perfect Pokemon catching tool.

I pulled off my backpack and reached in pulling out two water balloons filled with the aforementioned concoction. I then took out a Great ball that I had spent a week's earnings on and rested it right beside the balloons. I sighed quietly, if all went well I'd beam the Baydol right in the head with the balloon and let the fast acting poison work it's magic. A quick toss of a Great ball would get me a brand spanking new Pokemon.

I rather suitable quote comes to mind when I remember this adventure. "If you ever piss off a psychic pokemon, you'd better catch it or kilI it, before it flays you into a vegetable with it's mind." With thoughts of an ominous doom at the forefront of my mind I rushed from my hiding spot running parallel to the Baydol. My sudden movement had startled it, I couldn't really tell if it was sleeping before. I launched the first balloon in a perfect fastball straight at the statuesque Pokemon, only for it to be halted by a barrier of blue-psychic light.

'Huh' I paused. 'I didn't even think about that.' I really should've thought of a plan B. So in a flash of inspiration drawn from crippling fear I made one up. In a flash of brilliance or suicidal stupidity; I rushed the Baydol the second balloon in one hand the Great ball in the other. With a quick flick of my wrist I sent both flying one after the other, The psychic pokemon focused on the two moving projectiles halting them with the same ability, but with it's attention diverted I saw it's hold on the first give way. I dove and grabbed the balloon before it crashed to the floor. I scrambled to my feet forward with it in one hand as I lunged at the Pokemon. I smashed the balloon right into the markings where the eyes should have been with all my might.

When I say fast-acting, I mean fast-acting, the Oddish I procured the powder from was a friendly little plant that I had personally seen sedate a rampaging Bagon. So against the weaker Baydol, the poison took effect in seconds, I managed to grab the heavy ass statue before it crashed to the ground, possibly alerting the whole cavern. I set it gently down and grabbed the blue and red Pokeball quickly. I dialed in the laser to be ultra tight as to keep it from signalling to every Pokemon in a mile radius of an intruder.

The satisfying final tick as the Baydol was officially caught was music to my ears. I could practically taste all that cash I was I about to get. I pocketed the ball and made my way out of the ruins the way I had came.

I had climbed halfway out of the large cavern before I heard it. I dull thrumming sound suddenly filled the cavern. It rattled my teeth like I was standing next to the famous Foghorn of Slateport City, I looked down and the ruins were bathed in an eerie red lights hundreds of Baydol and Claydol floated 'angrily' if that was possible around the pillars and ancient stone. With a newfound vigor I ascended up the rope, I threw myself up onto the ledge that lead out of caves, just as a very irritated Claydol passed underneath. For the second time I breathed a sigh of relief as I began the slow journey back to the desert basin. On the way I took out the Greatball tossed it idly as finally stepped out into the harsh light of the Hoenn Desert. The wind whipped at my face as I wrapped a scarf around my face and nose, I pulled down my goggles staring into the great expansive wasteland.

'I really hate sand.' I mused to myself as I trudged slowly down the sloping dunes towards the closest oasis, to anyone watching I probably seemed like a lost member of one of the great desert clans, or maybe an intrepid explorer. I highly doubt anyone would believe that a fifteen year old had made it ten miles into the desert all alone.

The trek through the great basin of the Hoenn desert is fraught with perils. The most annoying perils being the absurd amount of Trapinch that lurk in small cone-shaped depressions in the sand. The pokemon allow loose sand to gather on the sides, one false step and you're sliding into the waiting jaws of one desert predator. Their evolved brethren, Vibrava flit through the treacherous wind at impossible speeds in their hunt for their favorite prey, Cacnea.

Humans don't factor in well within the food chain of the Great Desert, to call us alpha predators would be stupid. Even a veteran of the desert may be swept away by the screeching nightmare that is a wild Flygon. Of course, there hasn't been one of those in years. Captain Drake of the Hoenn Elite Four takes care of that. Nearly every high level Vibrava in this region is marked by some sort of tracker. The moment it evolves, the terror of the Great war is there, atop his massive Salamence, ready to swoop it up for capture. Watson had said they're bred to be slaughtered by Drake's great dragon, or its offspring, the thought of that great dragon soaring over him made me wanna throw up in fear.

Drake had visited port of Slateport a couple years ago, that great blue dragon had been the size of a small house and was still the largest pokemon I'd ever seen. I felt a cool shiver go up my spine, Watson had said true dragons like the Bagon and Dragonite line were bred for war and slaughter.

"No use in this peaceful time for dragon trainers. Those who raise them are bad omens." Watson had said, standing beside him in the crowd those few years ago. Thinking back on it now, the aged veteran atop the beast almost seemed to be staring back at him.

Back in the present, I cursed as I crested the hill towards the nearest oasis and dropped, letting the brown tones of my jacket blend into the desert surface and willing myself to become one with the sand as a blast of blue flames soared over the spot my head had just been occupying. I barely registered the green shape at the front of the blue blast as it soared like a comet into the dune behind me. I cursed and turned rushing towards the crater. I bit back any sound as the charred husk of a young Cacnea laid still in the center. The front part of it's body was a crisp, burnt black and the stumps that would've been it's arms twitched once before stilling completely.

I should've ran I knew that. The blue flames only ever came from dragons, and with just some climbing equipment and a knocked out Baydol I wasn't fit for any fight, but my feet carried me back up that dune towards the sound of action. Like a mad scene from the Hoenn Grand Tournament, the valley between the waving dunes of the great basin had been turned into a battleground. Smoking piles of plant flesh littered the area, an entire 'gang' of the little green cacti were now piles of barbeque as wisps of blue flame licked the sky. At the center the largest Vibrava I'd ever laid my eyes on, its wings longer than my torso and it's large green eyes the size of melons. Those big green eyes had only one target and that was a nasty looking Cacturne, facing the massive bug with one arm burned off.

Defiant to the end those bastards. Cacturne always roam with a 'gang' as the mountaineers call'em. Whatever set this bug off the Cacturne was gonna die over. The sand kicked up in a frenzy as the bug dragon's wings vibrated the air. In a blast of sand it shot after the humanlike cacti. Immobilized, by the dragonbreath's paralyzing property most likely, the Cacturne raised its hands to guard. The bug crashed full force folding the Cacturne in half before it's maw found the green bark of its neck. With a crack the Cacturne's head rolled, as the bug tore open its chest gnawing at the inside, chlorophyll blood soaked its pincer jaws.

I was frozen, watching the bug slay what had to be a high level cacturne, based on it's size, so easily was deeply disturbing, unmarked and unharmed the bug finished its meal. With a start the Vibrava shivered once, before the exoskeleton cracked, a small flake falling off. I needed know more motivation than that as I turned to run, the glowing light of evolution casting darker shadows across the dune as I sprinted West, hoping with sheer luck I could reach a tribal village in time.

The first wingbeat was a soft thud in the back of my head that locked my jaw before my teeth began to chatter. The second more profound as the beast gained altitude. I need not look back to see the newly birthed dragon flight, I had always been able to feel the intent of Pokemon and men alike. "An aptitude for empathy, young trainer." That's what old man Horace had called it, the owner of the day-care center had said it first laying eyes on me. I could feel emotions, surface emotions at a distance, touching people meant uncomfortable thoughts and feelings. I doubt I'd need this particular gift to feel the bloodlust leaking out of that dragon. Even the desert seemed to feel it as the sand shifted on the dunes, swirling in angry tornadoes like the vengeful spirits of legend.

Cresting the last visible dune, I was almost elated to see the soft red lights of a tribal camp. I say was because my next step found no ground beneath me and as I looked down the dune disappeared down a sharp decline as gravity took its toll and I was sent rolling somewhat comically down the near forty foot drop. The sky was replaced by sand which was replaced by sky which turned to sand as I tumbled down in what felt like an endless torture.

Finally, just before I lost my lunch all over myself, I came to a merciful stop at the bottom. My near endless string of loud, angry profanities against any deity or legend I could think of had apparently drawn the tribesmen from their tents. Children held back by mothers or older siblings stared at me in wonder. One even had the nerve to shout " _Hamoora"._ It's tribe for 'sand devil' alright, or maybe he said _kamoora_ which means 'bringer of the end'. I couldn't be sure with all the sand in my ears.

Older men were first to approach me, beneath the desert robes the barrels of assault weapons or sidearms were clear as day. As was the fear that permeated from them. I stood slowly eyes roaming the crowd. Amongst the men stood one really, really old lady. Her cloudy green eyes sunken into her face, the wrinkles of her forehead seemed to place her in a permanent frown. The walking staff in her darkened hands and regal posture though marked her as my one friend.

Smiling at the woman, I definitely saw a couple women blush at my devilish good looks, I clasped my hands and bowed form the waist, eyes down. "I only ask for guest rights, for my journey as a friend of tribe Black." I rasped out, my throat dry from the running, my handle of desert speak wasn't great, but I knew enough. The old woman nodded her head before turning to walk away. With that motion the crowd dispersed and I cast one hesitant look at the horizon, searching for the dark outline of a Flygon. Turning towards the largest tent, I heard the far off screech of the dragon. Deep down I knew we'd meet again, but I was hoping it wasn't so soon. With one long sigh, I pulled myself up to my full height before venturing towards the leader of tribe Red's tent.

"I wonder if they'll try to marry me off again, tribe yellow wasn't very shrewd, or forgiving about that one." The wild Sandshrew that stared at me from its hidey hole near one of the tents seemed to understand and responded with a shrug. I waved at the desert rat, which sent it skittering underground and earned me questioning looks from passing tribesmen.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

The chieftain of tribe red is usually the oldest, most-traveled member of the community, often times this leads to warrior of the tribes settling into the role of chieftain in their older age. For tribe red, their chieftain was widely regarded as the most powerful woman west of Fortree city. One of the only tribal people to become a registered trainer it was said that Lady Elen of the Red had stood on the steps of Evergrande city before flying home for some unknown reason.

The woman that met my eyes as I lifted the flap of the hut radiated power and confidence, her eyes seemed to grow dark and I could feel sins of past and future slithering across my skin like Sevipers. I bowed hastily, removing my scarf and goggles and throwing them into my pack before sitting cross-legged across from her. In the dark, cool inside of the dome tent I could feel every ounce of fatigue setting in, but the fear of disrespecting the old woman in front of me and the anxiously waiting beast curled in the sand beneath us.

I began to speak in what tribe speak I knew, hoping to alert her to the wild Pokemon sitting beneath us in wait, but a stern glare cut me off. She patted the ground beside her in what sounded like a strange song. The ground beneath us rumbled in some strange reply before I was sent scrambling as the sand beneath began to rise. I backed myself into the corner of the tent as the Lady Elen was also lifted, although she seemed right at home as the sand fell away from the black armor of the pokemon. With a short grunt, the beast revealed itself as a Hippowdon, an absolutely menacing Pokemon, with a massive set of jaws and angry red eyes.

The sweet smile of the Red chief seemed to suggest familiarity, and her shoulders seemed to twitch in what could only be suppressed laughter. "Come now, boy, he will not bite. Not before I've had a look at you. Say hello to Warden, my trusted partner." Perfect english I thought, well maybe a hint of that tribal accent, but the stories of the Lady Red spoke true I suppose. Hastily, I bowed once to the great monster, making sure not to meet its eyes in challenge. Hippowdon were incredibly territorial, and I was in its territory now.

The old woman cackled and quickly her partner joined in. A Hippowdon laugh sounds like a truck horn being strangled, deep rasping that promised death. She gestured me to retake my seat in front of her and the beast. The sharp red eyes never left my person as I sat once again. "You must be young Mathias, a great many Chief speak of the young explorer, more traveled in the desert than men twice his age, and how the old women conspire to chain him to wife." Her eyes seemed to sparkle as I flinched at the last part, women of the desert liked to catch them early and the older women played a mean game of matchmaker.

"I'm fifteen, Chief Elen, and I'm of the city. I have no want to be settled yet." I tried respectfully as I could. Thankfully, the old woman seemed to understand and nodded.

"Indeed, a great many things to come. Hoenn, in its great arrogance marches towards devastation boy. Have you seen this?" I frowned, the terrorist groups of Magma and Aqua were troubling, but nothing major.

"There has only been one successful attack, the last was stopped in time by Leader Wallace." Magma had attacked a shipyard in Sootopolis, after some relics that had been excavated from nearby ruins. I grew more uncomfortable in the tent with every passing minute. The sun had begun it's lengthy descent to the horizon and the shadows had grown longer, more menacing the longer I stayed. Emotions rolled off the old woman in waves, some harder to identify than others. Mirth, at her own joke no doubt. Sadness, maybe she knew why I ventured the desert. Longing, I could feel that one easily. Emotions are easier to feel when you've experienced them, maybe she longed for the outside world one last time. I shook away the feelings from my mind, mental blocks coming up with practiced ease. I hated it, the people of Hoenn hide their happiness, crush it under the weight of duty and tradition. All anyone over the age of twenty felt was sadness, and I hated them all, why should I be forced to feel it as well.

Again the old woman nodded, but her face hardened in a frown. "Do you know the old history? Of the creation?"

I didn't. It wasn't something that was taught in the trainer school, history and science were for historians and scientists. Trainers focused on the now. I shook my head in resignation, and then came the story pouring out like ash from Mt. Chimney.

"The first spark of creation, millions of years ago, brought about two sisters. The Sister of the Light and the Sister of the Dark. For thousands of years the two sisters labored, forming the earth from nought but dust and fire. At the creation of our world the sisters, in their wisdom birthed from their combined power two beings. On four legs stood Arceus, the bringer of life, and on wings of darkness, Giratina, the bringer of death. Brothers in all but form, Arceus birthed the first legendaries. Groudon and Kyogre turned fire and dust to Earth and Sea, and to govern them both Rayquaza was born for the sky. Arceus continued to birth more Pokemon of legend, but Giratina grew jealous of his brother's power over life and creation. Turning to the Dark Sister, she bestowed upon him the Spirit world. A land where death rules, but the direct creations of Arceus were unhindered by death for they were a part of the living world." At that she seemed to settle for a moment, and it felt as if the shadows of the tent shook in the names of creation.

"The Light Sister took pity upon Giratina and created from her essence the first humans and his name was Edra and hers Ezren. From them came the human race, but creation did not end there. The sisters of the Light and Dark watched as men and Pokemon lived together, interacted. The Dark sister grew jealous of the Light's pure creation and so she brought about her own creation. Men and women, with powers of the dark, fought the humans of Light for a time and both sides lost. Magic, the dark ones named their power Magic and the light dubbed their powers Aura. Together, the humans brokered peace between each other and the ways of Magic and Aura were lost in times of peace." Magic and Aura were fairy tales, told by elders to scare and teach young children. Evil witches would bite your toes if you didn't stay in bed or Aura knights would guard your dreams from evil if you ate your vegetables. I didn't believe in it of course. Horse shit I've heard spew out of my classmates mouths, told to them by their parents late at night. Lost in thought I almost missed when she started again.

"-gry with her sister, the Light ripped away Giratina from the spirit world, locking him away in a third world. A parallel world, where no human or Pokemon dared to venture. The Light locked the lord of death up and threw away the key. That is why Ghost pokemon exist, why spirits are able to be born into this world, young Mathias. The final day will see the doors to the three words ripped open. Spirit, Life, and the Parallel world will fall upon each other when the saga of the Hero ends." With that final line the dim light seemed to return to the dark of the camp, the red light peeking through the holes in tent returned from wherever it hid.

I stifled a yawn with my hand as I contemplated the story. The old woman seemed to watch me. "Thank you, Lady Elen, for sharing this fable with me." I said standing to find a spot to sleep for the night.

The crone's eyes twinkled in mirth at some hidden joke. "Yes boy, only a fable. A myth or legend to sooth the fear of the unknown. Do you know the story of the Hero's saga then?" She smiled, an unnerving twitch of her wrinkled face as the skin pulled into a smile.

"A boy, ventures from home in a stupid quest for glory, saves a princess, a demon comes back from the dead, man kills witch, princess dies as well, boy becomes man, and finally throws open the doors to save the princess. Ends the world. I think I remember most of it." I finished quickly, my legs aching from the day and sitting had done them no good.

"In fewer words than I remember, out of order as well." Her eyes seemed to harden and her beast below her rumbled in what felt like… fear. "In time, we will see each other two more times. One to run and one to question. Now." Her shoulders seemed to sag against the weight of the world and the wrinkles she wore were deep from stress and worry. "My old bones need rest. Orrin's tent is on the outskirts of camp, he has not returned from the desert yet, you may use his tent for tonight."

"Thank you, Lady Elen. May the wind still in your path." A tribal saying, polite. I bowed once more to elder and Pokemon alike. Two more times she said, what was the crazed woman talking about.

"May the wind will you home soon, Mathias." The Lady of the Red, trainer, elder, and a conqueror of Victory Road. I wished to never see her again. The Great Desert was vast, and it's people nomads, always on the move. To see the same tribe is rare for any but those with close ties. To meet the same elder not twice, but three times… I shook my head again. No, a rare instance of dementia. I put the elder's words out of my mind, right next to thoughts of rogue dragons, as I walked towards the edge of the camp. Eager to rest and rest I did. In a near empty tent I laid out a blanket I had packed and sleep found me as my head hit the soft sand.


End file.
